


Birthday Spanking

by Foxilayde



Category: JDM - Fandom, Jeffrey Dean Morgan - Fandom, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxilayde/pseuds/Foxilayde
Summary: Just a fun little ditty about you and your hubby Jeffrey participating in some role play.





	1. Pretty Please?

Hi All, This is my first ever fic.

I do apologize if it is considered a faux pas to write a fic about the actor.

No disrespect to JDM or his lovely family. Just an AU fantasy.

If ya don't like it, then ya don't have to read it ;) Enjoy!

* * *

“Please, please, please, Jeff!” You whine, sticking out your bottom lip in an over-the-top playful manner. “It’s my birthday, and you said we could do whatever I wanteeed,” you draw out the last word with a big grin on your face. Your husband also wears a big smile, a condescending smile, yes, but you can tell right now he’s trying to weasel his way out of your request.

You’re both a little tipsy on wine and you’re riding the high of the wonderful day you’ve just had. “You don’t really want THAT do you? You had an amazing birthday, didn’t you?” he encourages, still smiling as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer to carry them upstairs.

It is true, you both had just come home from a surprise party Jeff threw for you at your favorite restaurant, it definitely was perfect. he’d invited all your friends, he bought you that ridiculously expensive painting you fell in love with last month, plus he’d pampered you with a spa day, chocolates, breakfast in bed… this man was the king of birthdays.

You giggle, trying to unbuckle your shoes, “so many buckles!” You curse jokingly. Jeff sighs and kneels to help you. “You take such good care of me, my love. Yes I had a fabulous day, but this would just,” you kiss your fingers like an Italian chef, “be motto bene” you giggle again and start to stumble, your loving husband takes your shoe off and reaches for the other foot. Once your heels are off, he gets to his feet and holds your chin, your height difference is so much more pronounced now that the 6 inches were discarded under the bench in your marble foyer.

“You’re too silly now anyway” he says with a smile rubbing his nose against yours, “you’ll just laugh and ruin the fun” he taps your nose with his finger and gives you a toothy smile. You groan as he takes your hand in his.

He’s leading you to the bedroom and your buzzed mind hatches a sneaky playful plan. “Yeah I think you’re right, Jeffrey, you’re a little too drunk to do it right anyway probably, I should just forget it, even though I’ve wanted it so so long”. Jeff stops on the stairs narrowing his eyes at you. “Babe,” he tilts his head at you in an are-you-serious fashion. “You’re not sneaky, you know that right?” He continues the ascent to the bedroom, “you should really leave the acting to the professionals” he clears his throat and struts melodramatically towards the bedroom. You slap his back playfully and he chuckles as he opens the bedroom door.

He flicks on the light and makes his way to the closet to remove his get-up from tonight’s fancy soiree. He carefully puts away his cufflinks and bowtie, you realize you’ve been staring at him from the doorway of the closet when he looks at you and gives you a playful wink. He really did go all out for you tonight. “okay I admit that was a bad attempt at reverse psychology so I’m going to do the opposite of reverse psychology… what is that called?” You wonder, getting side-tracked with your own curiosity tends to happen after a few glasses of your favorite wine.

“Uhm I believe that’s called honesty, my dear,” Jeff teases as he unbuttons his crisp collared shirt. Armani, you think. He looks fucking great in Armani. “like Carey fucking Grant!” You blow him a kiss and go to the sink to brush your teeth. You hear a, “I think that’s a compliment? Thank you?” From the closet. You yell, “yes, you look like Carey fucking Grant. So sexy.”

You return to the closet with the toothbrush in your mouth, protesting, “Just to be clear, this toothbrush does not mean I’ve given up on what I want tonight, I would have to brush my teeth no matter what” he nods at your halfway audible disclaimer and laughs, “of course, sweetheart” he walks over to you, he’s only in his boxer briefs now, and he plants a kiss on your forehead. Your drunk ass interprets this as him being dismissive, “Jefferey really what do I have to do to make this happen, you know I want this so so bad, plus we are the only people here, you have the costume right freaking behind you! I mean, please baby, I know you love me, come on it’ll be fun for both of us ok”

Jesus you can feel yourself being a drunk whiny mess but at the same time, it IS your birthday and god damn, this request IS worth fighting for. He sighs, a little bit of his joviality is missing from his face, and he makes his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, still clad only in his boxer briefs. You’re just staring at him again, god damn he is so GOOD to look at. You know you’ve got a goofy smile on your face, he looks at you and shakes his head, toothbrush in his mouth, you lift yourself up to sit on the counter next to his sink and run your hand through his sexy salt and pepper hair.

You’ve still got your evening dress on: a slinky black silk thing with a slit ALLL the way up your thigh. He picked it out for you on your last trip to new york, you tried it on as kind of a joke, but he called it the Sex On A Stick dress and had bergdorfs wrap it up. Combined with the strappy heels, he said the ensemble turned him into a cartoon wolf character with his heart beating out of his chest and his tongue lolling on the ground.

He spits in the sink and rinses his mouth, after he’s done he stands in between your legs, you put your arms around his neck and kiss his beardy cheek. You’re so glad the thing he’s filming right now lets him have a beard. It’s short enough to show off his dimples and you run your fingers lightly over it, humming at the softness. You are amazed at how lucky you are to have this teddy bear of a man for a partner. You give him a little peck on the nose. “You have such a handsome nose," you coo. That Napa Cabernet Sauvignon sure did its job of turning you into a mushy horn dog tonight. 

Jeffrey steps back and rubs his thumb across your cheek, reading your face tenderly. “Alright, doll face, if I do this for you… you can’t laugh alright, I want you to play along too. You got it?”

He looks serious so you mimic his serious tone and sober up quick. “Yes of course I will be totally in character I completely understand” you are thrilled. You are thrilled over the moon and around the sun, but you mustn’t show it.

He knows how happy he’s making you, you’ve begged him for months, ever since he brought the costume home in the off season of filming. Well, ever since you saw his premiere episode.

Jeff gives you a hesitant smile and tells you to go and wait for him by the bed. Remembering to be serious, you contain your squeals and walk smugly over to your four poster. You decide against sitting on the mattress and decide to get on your knees so you’ll be in the perfect position when he enters.

You can hear him unzipping the costume bag from the closet, you can’t see him getting dressed but you can hear it. “You know, honey, you might be a little bit sick in the head for wanting this.” He pauses, “And I mean that will all the love in the world. I really do.” You can hear the smile in his voice, “I’ve got a pretty good idea for what you want, after all I’ve read all those uhm, fan letters, you know which ones I’m talking about… and I uh gotta say, I did not imagine my wife as someone in that group. I know you’ve been getting more kinky recently, but god damn woman," you can hear buckles zippers and snaps as he speaks, "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," he sing-songingly taunts and chuckles.

You do know the fan letters he’s referring to, all the women writing your husband letting him know about their fantasies of him tying them up, taking them as prisoners, dominating and abusing them… you smile thinking about the letters now. The fantasy of so many women was about to become your _reality_. There was something powerful and magical about that, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little to think how jealous they might all be.

The letters weren't the ones to give you the idea for this birthday wish though, HE did. The premier of his first episode, you didn't watch it together as he was at a party with the cast, you were still at home as you had to work, and looking back you’re glad you had the privacy. If he’d been anywhere near you, you would’ve jumped his bones, privacy or no.

It awoke something in you and made you see your own husband in a different way. Since that first viewing you’ve been obsessed. Consumed. You felt guilty making love to him sometimes because you’ve pictured the _character_. When you confessed this to him, he said he understood too well what you meant and shared with you some of the kinky letters he'd been getting. You’ve been incorporating more kink into the bedroom activites as a result, putting his hand on your throat when you ride him. Slapping his face lightly and beging him to slap you back. You know he’s been enjoying getting rougher, but he never initiates the rough stuff. He’s too much of a sweetheart to have any desire to hurt you.

  
Movement in the closet had ceased and you heard Jeffrey take a deep breath, he warned again, “I’m coming out and you’d better be ready, beautiful!”

* * *

Next chapter will be up soon, please comment and let me know what you liked/didn't like or any suggestions & tips would be helpful. Thanks so much for stopping by! 


	2. Anything You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I'm back with part 2 over a YEAR later.  
Please leave me any feedback you like. Thanks for reading.

He steps out of the walk-in and you immediately want to send his costume designer an edible arrangement and a trip to Hawaii. And here you thought he looked hot in a Tux! Talk about a sex-on-a-stick ensemble. He looks so much taller and intimidating than usual. That could be because you’re on your knees, but there’s something about the way the pants taper that make those legs seem a mile high. There’s something about his posture, too. His chest seems broader and more relaxed. 

The air around him has changed, and you are immediately aware that you are no longer dealing with your dear husband. This IS a megalomaniacal king of the not too distant apocalypse. Standing on your white carpet which you had once upon a time picked out with this guy’s alter ego. The setting behind him of your modern bed/bath isn’t fitting at all. You let your mind drift to thoughts of location-scouting dilapidated factories for your role playing. The tall dark stranger has a familiar bat resting comfortably on his leather clad shoulder and a million watt smile framed by a wolfish beard. A shiver runs down your spine as he approaches you and you feel yourself instantly sober up. Your eyes are wide in awe. Your new playmate looks exactly the way he did when you first fell in lust with him on television. Negan laughs at your expression. And, make no mistake, this IS Negan. Gone is your playful smiling husband. This man also wears a smile, but this one is not the same. You didn’t even realize it, but your mouth is dropped open and you are nearly drooling. Your expression is only brought to your attention when his gloved hand reaches down and gently closes your jaw. 

Even his hair looks different somehow. Slicked back raven hair like preened feathers atop his head. Using the bat like a scepter on the ground, he crouches before you. Are those barbs real?? 

“I heard it was somebody’s birthday,” he purrs at you. You feel fucking hypnotiized by those deep eyes. “And it must be mine because hot damn, what a fucking present I have before me!” 

Negan grabs your cheek with his free hand, giving it a leather-fingered squeeze. “You might as well have a fucking bow on your head darling. Look at you. Aren’t you are all wrapped up nice and pretty for me?” 

You are actually trembling now. Your legs have long since fallen asleep and the black silk of your dress will never be the same after this encounter.. Mixed with your excitement is a sense of fear. There is no telling what Negan will do with you. You doubt that your husband would actually hurt you, but you ARE on your knees, and he does have a BAT. The image intrudes your thoughts and you feel your heartbeat pick up a little. You audibly gulp, never breaking eye contact. You aren’t much of an actress, but it’s not hard to fall into this scene. 

“Yes sir, it is my birthday.” Your voice is soft and timid, a far cry from the brazen wine filled woman from earlier. 

“You know,” he says, crinkling his eyes smugly and standing up, “most people in this world don’t even know what god damn day it is. And why would they? Who the hell is keeping count?” 

He makes his way behind you now, one hand on Lucille, still propped up like a foreboding walking stick through the valley of death, and one hand petting your hair gently. 

“Do you know how lucky we are that your old husband had a watch with a calendar when all this shit went down?” 

His hand moves from petting your hair to squeezing your shoulder. 

“And I took that watch from him the same day I took his pretty little wife from him.” 

Fingers tracing your collar bone, 

“He was a lesser man, he didn’t deserve you, princess. He did have a very nice watch I gotta fucking admit, but he couldn’t keep you safe, not in this world. So I swooped in, babydoll; I held out my hand and saved your beautiful rear-end.” 

He’s squeezing your shoulders with both hands now, Lucille propped against your bed frame. 

How in the hell was he coming up with these lines? You did a little improv back in high school theater and you knew the rule: once something is established, go with it. Sounds like your character will be that of one of Negan’s wives. Well it made sense, you were basically dressed for the role, costume and makeup fitting the part. 

“Pretty little shivering thing you were that day we first met. I knew I had to save you from being stuck with that useless trust fund kid. When I married you I promised to love, cherish and please you,” 

Negan deftly moved from behind you, to your front so you could better view his declaration. Putting on this one man show, just for you. 

“I swear on my life, as your husband, and on you; as one of my many cherished wives… I try,” 

Your husband put his hand over his heart and shook his head solemly. 

"I try my best to give you every little thing your heart could ever desire every damn Christing day. I knew you were used to nice things back in the before times, like your old man’s Rolex implied. Instead of cowering in a shack with your nutless sugar daddy, you sit safe and secure in this lap of luxury, having every need met, being treated better than my best defenders, my best soldiers, and my best scavengers. You want for nothing. I give you presents nearly every supply run, and I make sure to hit up them good stores too. The ones I know you like. Hell, I even grace you with a fine dicking-down at least twice a fucking week. And still, here you are, wanting something from me. Well, princess-of-my-heart, apple-of-my-eye, ripest-peach-in-the-pot, what wish can Daddy possibly grant you on your special day?” 

Well right now you wished you had a freaking Emmy hidden somewhere to award him. He must have been working on this monologue for a while. Which means, his trepidation at doing this was all an act too! Sneaky Jeffrey. You wonder if some of the show writers helped him with it or if he was just so in-character, he was able to fabricate it himself. You’re hoping its the latter as you’re not too keen on your husbands co-workers being privy to your kinky secret. The thought makes you blush, but you remember your promise to Jeff, you're going to take this seriously.

Negan's speech ends and his hands are on either side of your face, rubbing your cheeks and ears with his large thumbs the sensation is delightfully threatening. His face is patient, waiting for your response. You bite your bottom lip and you try your best to speak in character, 

“For MY special day? What do I want? hmmm” you say raising yourself up off the floor, using his form to assist you, shaking the sleep out of your legs. You rest your hands on his hips and his many belts, fingering the metal of the largest buckle, you look up at your mountain of a husband though thick eyelashes. You surprisingly don’t feel exactly like yourself. Like you really COULD be the ex-wife of a sugar daddy who has now turned allegiance to a violent lord and savior. You lick your lips and bring your hands around to his backside, giving his cute little butt a squeeze. 

“Negan,” you moan the word like a song, loving the way it feels on your lips. 

“Negan,” you repeat it with an exultant smile. You’ve thought it enough in your head while you’ve touched yourself and even when Jeffrey would make love to you. Always confined to your fantasies. There is something so freeing about saying it aloud. It excites you so much, like a spell, saying it in this man’s presence, you want to do it again and again,

“Negan, mmmm” you nuzzle against his chest. Even his scent smells different; sweat, soap, and leather. Not like Jeffrey’s cologne. The simple masculine fragrance makes you breathe more deeply. Your hands snake under his jacket and under the white tee, nails running up his torso. You smile, chin resting on his chest you look up at his face with such satisfaction, like being reunited with a lost lover. His hands are on your lower back rubbing your Dimples of Venus though the black silk, a spot your husband knows drives you crazy. The friction of his massage makes you moan and rake your nails down his back from under his shirt. Negan shivers.

“Yes, my horny cat on a hot tin roof, what do you want, hmmm?” His mouth goes to your ear and he whispers, “Diamonds? Cashmere? The declaration of independence? Or do you just wanna nuzzle me all night long? What can Daddy Negan get you, huh, sweet thing?” 

His teeth catch your lobe and nibble. Your eyes roll back and your breath hitches. You pull back slightly and look into his eyes, “I want Negan to have his way with me,” you decide. “I wan’t him to pick a dirty fantasy one of his fans wrote to him, any fantasy he likes, and I want him to deliver that fantasy to me, the best he can.” Bringing one of your hands up to his mouth, you trace his soft lips with your index finger, “are you up for that, my Savior?” You ask sweetly. 

“Babydoll, just pick a safe word and your wish is my fuckin’ command”


End file.
